


An Pheaca Maighdean (The Virgin Sin)

by LydiaWrenWolfram



Category: American Gods (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Loss of Virginity, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Virginity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2019-11-27 09:51:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18193013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LydiaWrenWolfram/pseuds/LydiaWrenWolfram
Summary: Back before Mad Sweeney came to America, sometime after he was cursed, he took the virgin daughter of a Goddess for a lover, forbidden and sweet, and unleashed a power that has rippled to the modern day. Ever wonder where he got that special, special coin?Before Laura there was Essie... before Essie... there was Caoilinn.





	1. Day of Court

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I’m hoping my translator is correct on the Gaelic… I have not written for this fandom yet, so I hope you enjoy. There will never, ever be enough Mad Sweeney fic. That is all. Technically, Shuibhne is Sweeney’s first name, not Buile, but… It flows better and seems to be what most are going with so... we shall go with that.  
> I am making this pre- MadWife, because I am of the fascinating theory that Essie was Laura's past self, therefore the girl in this story is their past self... . Please leave feedback and also any ideas of what you would like to see happen as we go forward.

Ireland. A very, very long time ago.  
Spring birds twittered and sang from green budding trees as a slight, delicate girl snuck quietly through the grove, trying to be unseen by both nature and human eyes. Caoilainn, as she was called, was not allowed where she was attempting to go. Her mother forbade it, never truly giving her a reason as to why, except a half-hearted excuse that she was “half human, and not at all Sidhe Fae enough to join in the court and that her aunt would be displeased”. Well, Caoilainn was not one to exactly be obedient, that wild trait she gained from her goddess Mother.  
Truth be told, her Mother’s reasoning was far deeper and more dangerous, but she still looked at her daughter as If she was a wee sprite, not a woman of just now eighteen.  
The sounds of the court gathering reached Caoilainn’s ears like soft murmurs as she slipped in between two young Birch trees, close enough to hear, yet hoping to be unseen by her Aunt Brigid’s court guards. Her eyes looked over the various Fae gathered there, some tiny and flying, some towering and tall, separate from her family, the Tuathe De dannen, the Gods of the Fae who sat at the front in thrones fashioned from vines and wood, with moss for seats. Her aunt, Queen of the Fae, sat dead center, her long red hair done up in a cascading bun a top her head, her pale skin dotted with a few freckles under green, shrewd eyes, but it was the man Brigid’s gaze was trained that took all Caoilainn’s attention. He was tall, towering even, broad shouldered and lean, hair as fiery as Brigid’s, caught in a long braid just below his shoulders, he looked like he’d been put through a few battles and lost each one.  
“And what exact redemption do you expect to find from us?” Brigid’s words were soft, but not at all gentle, she weighed the man before her with her eyes.  
“I don’t expect my place as king to be given back, nor any shred of my previous humanity, but my soul is dyin’ for just a bit of somethin’.” He tilted his head just so, something telling Caoilainn that begging was not something he did often, nor liked. “All this…” he plucked a coin from the air and dropped it at the Queen’s feet, “And nothin’ to do with it.”  
“You have been cursed with madness by those that ought to see us done away with completely.” The Queen said,  
“Aye and I think that shows where my fuckin’ loyalty stands.” If Caoilinn could see his eyes, she would see the fire and fight still there, with just a glint of madness.  
“The only reason you’re not dead is the Aos Si blood in your veins.” Brigid countered, “And because of that, we do owe you a bit of loyalty, but, Buile Shuibhne, I cannot lift the curse of madness from you, but I will give you charge over one of our sacred mounds.”  
The laugh that choked out of the man’s throat was strangled, bitter and dark, “A fucking rock. I had a fucking kingdom and you’re givin’ me a fuckin’ wee rock to guard?” His voice was elevated now to the point four tiny faeries darted under some leaves in fear.  
Brigid’s eyes flashed true fire and she stood. “Do not test me, Leprechaun. I can take your gold, I can take your soul and use your bones to fuel my forge, I do not think you wish to continue this line of attitude.”  
Nostrils flared, he considered her words. He was fucked up the ass anyway. A mound of the Sidhe Fae to guard and protect and rule over was better than nothing, and most certainly better than the torture of Brigid’s forge fires. “Aye. I’ll watch your rock.” He murmured, keeping the rest of his thoughts to himself.  
Caoilinn was leaning further than she thought, attracted to the drama and the story. Her foot knocked a rock down from her perch and she gasped, but no one seemed to hear her, except for the Leprechaun in question who’s blue eyes caught hers and held, and aye but there was true madness and chaos behind them, mesmerized she stared as he smirked in her direction just as a crow’s caw broke the air and her Mother materlized in front of her.  
“Caoilinn.” Was all the Morrigan said, for her dark eyes spoke volumes of displeasure.  
“Mother!” Caolinn hurried down from her perch and stood before her, “I’m sorry I just… I wanted to see, I heard the rumors and wanted to see for myself ...”  
“You are not to be here, daughter.” Morrigan said in her husky tone, “it is not safe, especially while your Aunt judges with the Leprechauns, in particular this one.” A black eyebrow raised over grey eyes.  
“But Mama, I’ve heard all the stories about him, I just wanted to see, what harm could come to me here? I’m a woman now, I am strong, no one would mess with a daughter of yours!”  
Morrigan sighed, tucking a blonde wispy hair behind her daughter’s ear, “There is much you do not know, Caoilinn. You are my youngest and my most precious, innocent daughter and I wish to keep you safe.” She kissed her forehead, “Be a good girl and go home and tend to your studies.”  
Caoilinn frowned darkly, it felt like most times her mother wanted her to be completely human, with no trace of divinity or difference in her. As if she could read her mind (which honestly, she probably could), her mother spoke,  
“These are dangerous times, daughter, it is best to blend in with the wind than be slain by the earth.” And the Morrigan turned into her crow self and took to the sky. 

He’d seen her. She was tiny, her skin was pale like her mother’s, but her hair was as blonde as a Nordic maiden’s. Her lips were pink like a rosebud in spring and she was shaped well in the breasts for being such a slight thing, her hips were lithe, and she had almost hidden completely behind the two birch trees where she’d been perched watching the court. He had smelled her. She was not all human, just like him she had Fae blood in her veins, but a higher more concentrated kind… the kind of the gods and goddesses and she had forbidden fruit written all over her. The Tuathe De had taken to mating with humans lately… to carry on and hide their blood line in a world where new gods were constantly clashing with the ancient powers by force. He couldn’t quite smell whose daughter she was, but knew if he wanted to keep his life, he better not pursue the temptation of her, so he put his thoughts away and headed to his new “kingdom”, such as it was. 

Caolinn returned to her little cottage, but her mind was still stuck on what she had seen. Oh, there were several rumors about the once great king, Buile Shuibhne and all she’d wanted was to see him for herself. He didn’t look *as* crazy as some had painted him, with sharp teeth and wild eyes and a hairy hunched back… she giggled at that, stoking her fire in her stone fireplace, putting on a kettle of water. No, he was quite handsome like any man, normal looking really, unless you looked into his eyes. She wondered why her Aunt and mother were so cautious with him. They knew plenty of leprechauns. Sure, they’re tricksters, but Caoilinn knew how to handle a trickster, you just were careful with them and played by your own rules and made sure plenty of loopholes existed. She simply didn’t understand why *this* one was so dangerous! Maybe it was because he was cursed? Cursed people were something of a side show, an entertainment and Caoilinn was above entertainment into simple scientific curiosity.  
She finished her dinner and took to standing at her open window, looking over the golden evening view, deep in contemplation, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. She had always been taught to not believe much of rumors and if you heard a rumor, well then ask the person themselves what it might be the truth. If she went through with this plan, it meant disobeying her mother’s orders, which she had done on smaller things before…  
Oh, she just couldn’t resist! She wanted to know his story, wanted to hear from his own vile lips what had happened that caused him to be cursed and fall the mad king. Grabbing the milk bucket, she went out to relieve her cow and plot her little scheme. Settling beside the brown cow, she petted her, setting the bucket under her teats and began her plan aloud, “I can cover well so Mother won’t see my moves, and if anything, bad happens… well I just don’t think it will.” She told the cow who regarded her with a rather blank stare, “I may use some of your cream, shan’t I?” Satisfied the cow had agreed, she nodded, “Good. A lil cream, some coins to sparkle and a cover so Mother won’t hear of my plans. I’ll summon him tonight.” 

Once night had fallen, Caoilinn mixed her spell of invisibility against the Morrigan, then set out three shiny gold coins next to a clay mug of milk, then dashed under her covers to pretend to be asleep and waited. And waited. 

He was passed out drunk, is what he was. Sprawled on the green grass like a wild thing, arms and legs open to the air when he snorted himself awake with the scent of fresh cream in his nostrils. “Wha? Who the feck is callin’ to me, I’m full on offerin’s, thank you.” He rolled over onto his stomach, but the pull was strong, he opened one eye and glanced in the south -easterly direction. He breathed deeply and chuckled. “Oh, you naughty, naughty girl.” He purred, sitting up, running his hands through his unbraided hair, looking every bit the mad king at the moment. It was that wench from earlier, he could smell her from here, even though her call was likely ten miles way, he could smell her as if she were in front of him. “Don’t even realize the strength of your power, yet, do ya lass.” He said huskily. “Well. I’m called.” He said to himself, standing he weaved a bit as he got his balance  
Caoilinn had dozed off, just barely when she felt more than heard a presence at her window, she bolted up right and met those eyes again as he was downing her offering and pocketing the coins. “You came.” She breathed.  
“Well, one usually does when one smells an offering.” He quipped, leaning on the window frame, his hair bushy in the moon light. “Something tells me though, you aren’t supposed to be leavin’ things out for the likes of me.”  
She shrugged her tiny shoulders, “I’m a woman, I do as I please. I saw you at court.”  
Buile chuckled, “And I saw you, hidin’.” He watched her, the moonlight illuminating her on the straw tick bed, her hair down and flowing around her.  
“I’m not allowed at court. Mother’s rules. I’m half human.”  
“Ah.” He said, leaning on the windowsill. “So am I. Or…rather, I was. Before I was cursed.”  
Caoilinn leaned forward, “That’s what I wanted to hear about… I wanted to hear what happened from your mouth, not just the rumors.” She cleared her throat, “Would… would you please come in?” She said, her voice shy but strong as she invited him in.  
He disappeared a moment as he walked around the little house to enter through the door, “Who is your Mother?” he asked, wanting to know exactly who he might be dealing with.  
“The Morrigan.” She said softly, almost inaudibly.  
Buile’s eyes widened, “Are you tryin’ to get me killed, for real and certain, ye want my eyes plucked from me head while I yet breathe?” He exclaimed, then calmed as she shrank back against the bed frame. “Sorry.” He apologized, not wanting to frighten her, “But your mother isn’t known for fair battle strategy especially when it comes to men and her fair children.”  
“She won’t know.” Caoilinn said, moving to set on the edge of the bed, “I put up invisibility, it will last until morning and I’m dying to know your story.” Her gown was hitched way above her knees as her legs dangled off the bed, innocently, pale and creamy delicate expanses of flesh that made his loins stir.  
Buile swallowed hard, tearing his gaze away from the white ankles and small feet, his eyes landing on her clasped hands in her lap, just her flimsy linen underdress all between him and her fair body. By Dadga, what was he, an untrained lad? Granted it had been a bit since he’d indulged in the pleasures of the flesh from a female, but she radiated sexual energy as if it was her goddess power. Unable to make his eyes go to hers, his eyes followed her torso up to the round breasts the stood like twin sisters, the dusky nipples just barely visible under her dress. Her clearing throat snapped the spell and he met her eyes, her cheeks flushed.  
“My story.” He repeated, inching closer to her, as silently as possible just in case her spell work wasn’t as strong as she hoped. He could almost feel a giant crow storming in through the thatch roof and grabbing him to rip him to shreds. Buile’s story was painful, and he considered lying to the younger woman, but figured his sins were stacked against him as it were. He sat beside her gingerly, testing the weight before relaxing, “I was cursed because I fought a priest tryin’ to build a church in the middle of my kingdom.” He said the word priest as some would say whore.  
Caoilinn felt compassion for him, putting her hand on his shoulder, her brow furrowed, “So that’s what Brigid meant about still owing you loyalty, because you were trying to do something good?”  
Her words were simple, he could tell she was naïve about the world and that her mother had kept her hidden from it, her hand was gentle, small and warm. “I suppose.” He said shortly. “Except the curse made me run from a battle that ended the lives of our own.” Among other things he just didn’t want to get into. “I had a wife, she tried to stop me.” He found himself laying back against her mattress, his feet still touching the floor, “Being daft I didn’t listen, should have.” He snorted.  
Caoilinn watched him, laying a tentative hand on his chest, soothingly, stroking the linen of his shirt. “Where is she now?” She ventured.  
“Dead.” Was his short, harshly spoken answer. The hand didn’t move, he shifted his eyes to her. “That’s all the story you need to know, colleen.”  
Caoilinn’s nostrils flared. “I am not a child!” She pulled back and crossed her arms. “I am so utterly tired of everyone *treating* me like a child. I am a woman with rights now, full adult rights and I am coddled and hidden away like a tiny sprite.” She sighed defeatedly.  
Buile smirked, propping himself up on his side and watched her, her chest heaving a bit with exasperation. “Morrigan’s only tryna protect ye, col…lady.” He corrected. “Tell me your name and I won’t have to fidget for a word.”  
“Caoilinn.” She said quietly, watching him, her arms still crossed.  
“Ah... it fits you… fair, pure.” There was something in his eyes she didn’t understand when he said that last word, pure, his nostrils flared as if he was taking a deep breath and the look deepened. The look made her feel warm in her middle and in her heart and clear down in her nether bits. “You’re a virgin too, huh, Caoilinn.” His words were like warm silk, his eyes hot.  
She shrugged, swallowing hard at his look, "Mother doesn't think I'm ready to be wedded."   
“Of course, she doesn’t. Overprotective crow.” He sneered a bit, then glanced towards the roof, again expecting Her to barge in ready to kill. Despite his anxiety he felt his cock harden just a tad at the scent he got off the little woman, arousal yes, but the pure, untouched, untainted by a man smell that a woman only got once in her life. He should leave. Right now. Leave and not look back, go back to his rock and his tree and his safe little space with his mead and gold and not look back and not be sitting up reaching for her outstretched ankle. “There’s a price a bit more than coins and milk to my story I’d like to be taking from you.” He purred, his eyes hooded as he caressed a thumb on her ankle.  
Caoilinn’s heart jumped and began beating faster, part fear, part arousal. She had experienced arousal before. She had been kissed before, even had a boy touch her breasts before, but… this was different. It was charged like a lightening storm, the fear played in because he was mad, and she wasn’t sure if he was going to seduce her or rape her…. And she wasn’t sure she cared either way. “What…what is the price?” She said, expecting him to say her complete virginity.  
Buile Shuibhne may be mad. But he was not completely stupid, nor did he have a true death wish. He didn’t know exactly where he was going with this desire, but he knew his pleasure would not be had tonight, at least not by the sweetness of Caoilinn’s cunt. There was no way he was penetrating the virgin daughter of the Morrigan, not on the first day of his new life. “it’s a price I should pay you for listening.” He purred, pulling her legs open a bit and tugging her onto his lap, curling her legs gently around his waist. He watched her swallow and look up at him, painfully trusting. “You shouldn’t trust me, Caoilinn." He said softly, caressing her cheek, “I am untrustworthy.”  
Caoilinn saw the pain behind his eyes and mewled in sympathy, meeting his hand on her face, “I trust you as much as I trust myself.” Ah, true daughter of chaos, one willing to cast invisibility against her own mother simply to learn his story.  
Buile growled and cupped her face with both his hands and leaned in to kiss her, her pink rosebud lips tasted like the sweetest honey, his tongue probing the flesh gently he heard her moan wantonly. Virgins were nice like that. Virgins and whores both were eager little things. He nuzzled her again, kissing her neck, smelling her cunt grow wet he set his hands on her waist and stroked up, cupping her heavy breasts in his hands, round and plump, thumbs flicked the nipples and he watched her jerk, her eyes shut, lips parted.  
“It always feels different when someone else touches them.” She mused. He chuckled, massaging them, untying her gown, letting her chest show he pulled them from their covering and growled low, looking at the dusky pink nipples, tight at his ministrations. He bent, catching one in his mouth and suckled, her legs went tight around him, fingers suddenly digging in to his arms. “Shuibhne” She moaned huskily, bucking, desiring him to touch her *there*.  
“Have others been touchin’ these fair bosoms?” he muttered against her neck, nipping and kissing as he teased her nipples.  
“Just once.” She whimpered, “Oh please.”  
“Please what? Do you know what you’re askin’?” He questioned, “Are you one of those naughty colleens that touch herself in the night?” He suckled her earlobe, eliciting a mewl and more nail digging.  
“Maybe.” She breathed into his ear and his cock sprung fully hard at that thought, he pushed her back to lay on the bed, almost loosing restraint at not fucking her. It crossed his mind that if she was too worked up, the power to keep her invisibility up may just fall around her, but in the moment, he didn’t care, let the ol’ crow see what he was about to do.  
“I’ll not penetrate you.” He promised, more to himself, seeing the disappointment in her eyes, “I don’t have a death wish.” His hands were skimming up her legs, taking her linen gown with them until he uncovered the curly blonde mound, her pink swollen clit peeking out.  
Caoilinn hoped to at least *see* his cock, even if he said he wasn’t going to fuck her, but the leprechaun remained clothed, his rough hands caressing her thighs before he laid beside her, turning her just a bit so her back was against his body, his long arm around her, fingers dipping through her mound. She moaned, her head lolling against his shoulder, hand meeting his, “Pay me.” She growled, the passion behind it surprising even her, the tone was dark, something made of shadows and chaos.  
Shuibhne kissed her neck, suckling her earlobe as he began stroking her clit slowly, dipping into the wet pooled below, bringing it back up to part the pink lips and circle her clit once more, tantalizingly. Her hand came to catch in his long hair, tugging as she panted with pleasure, she was begging him to fuck her, but he ignored her pleas and continued to pump her clit alone, he hadn’t even dipped a finger into her cunt, though he desperately wanted to feel that tight channel around even his pinkie. “Please.” She moaned, “I want to know what it’s like… please.” She was panting now, very close to her climax.  
“No.” he purred nuzzling her, shifting to suckle a breast again, pinching she bucked, almost screaming with pleasure, pulling his hair hard. “Go ahead, pluck me bald.” He purred huskily. She was writhing uncontrollably, gyrating and grinding against his hand, he knew she needed, craved penetration but he wasn’t going to give it to her, not one bit, not even a tongue in her mouth. His cock jumped solid against her back in his linen pants as she shrieked his full given name, coming against his hand, her scent filling the room, pure, clover like, fertile and he thanked the gods for his restraint. Shuibhne watched her breasts as she panted, the nipples rock hard, he soothed them with kisses, waiting till her eyes were on him before he tasted his fingers, grinning as she blushed brightly, looking away from him. “I should leave.” He sighed, “Thank you… for calling… “he ran a hand through his hair, “For caring.” He said quietly.  
Before Caoilinn could realize it, he was gone. Just like that. Disappeared as if into thin air. 

He made it to his tree before he became even more mad with desire, one hand against the tree, the other he used to hastily undo his breeches and grab his trembling, dripping cock, groaning he arched his head back and pushed into his hand. Sweet Brigid’s tits, Caoilinn was perfect, her mewls were still on his ears and he fought with himself at why exactly had he not fucked her well and solid? His hand was moving fast of its own free will almost, covering his thick shaft from root to head, squeezing rhythmically as he stroked, he leaned forward, his head against his harm as he grunted, hot spurts of come spraying the tree. He faintly heard the spirit of the tree complain and he patted it apologetically. “Better you than her.” He muttered, collapsing into a deep sleep, hoping to wake in the morning, limbs, eyes and cock intact.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going forward, I think it would be easier to call Sweeney by the modernized version of his name, just for continuity and imagery... Hope you enjoy!

Sweeney awoke slowly to birdsong and the sun squarely in his face. He groaned, stretching, noting his arms and eyes were still attached, glancing down he sighed with relief and patted his prick. Illusion had worked and he was safe for now. Rising he stretched, cracking his neck, glancing at the tree “Oh shush, it’s not the worst thing that’s ever happened to ya, how many dogs have lifted their legs to ya?” The tree was silent in answer, sullen almost. He shook his head and walked away, wandering through the forest, plucking ripe berries as he went, savoring their flavor until he heard the splashing sound of someone diving into the spring at the edge of the forest.   
Standing behind a tree and a few ferns he looked out over the spring, which was oval, crystal clear water with a waterfall trickling from the rock wall that rose above it. The clear water did not cover the lithe form of a woman swimming under the surface, her perky ass was creamy and white, blonde hair pooled around her like silk and he leaned against the tree to watch unapologetically. The woman emerged from the water and he swallowed hard, recognizing her as Caoilinn. Water trickled down her breasts, circling her nipples the way his tongue wanted to and dripped down to the spring as she moved to her back. He should turn away and go now. He really should. 

Caoilinn breathed deeply as she floated on her back, enjoying the tepid warmth of the spring, thinking about last night and wondering if maybe it had been a dream. She closed her eyes and could still feel the rough hands touching her body, pulling pleasure from her. She lost her focus and gasped as she went under, springing from the water she batted her hair from her face; sputtering water and caught a glimpse of someone at the edge of the forest. “Hello?” She called, “Who is there?” She swam to the edge and noted that whoever it was did not move, clinging to a limb she grinned, “I don’t mind if you watch, just let me know you mean no harm, ay?”

A warm chuckle reached her, “You’re just a right lil’ minx, aren’t ya Daugh’er a’ Morrigan.” His voice made her heart jump and her lips parted, a blush rising on her cheeks. “Swimmin’ for all the lads to see you, and not carin’ who watches.” There was lust in his voice, warm and gravelly and it made her nether bits tingle and grow warm.   
“I was thinking about you.” She said, moving to exit the spring, her body rising like a delight, walking toward him, the breeze making little goosepimples on her skin and her nipples harden to pink points.   
“Oh?” he purred, not moving, his eyes resting on those delectable breasts.   
“Aye. How you touched me, what you said. I’ve been thinking I would like it greatly if you would touch me again.” She was almost whispering and now directly in front of him, her little body dripping all over the grass. 

Sweeney sighed, his body reacting to her eagerly, “You do, do ya.” He didn’t move to touch her, just watched with crossed arms, “And what if your mother catches us?”  
Caoilinn shrugged, “She wouldn’t hurt something I cared about or admired.” She raised a small hand and tentatively touched his arm, stroking gently, “I’m pulled to ya, you fascinate me and I really, really.” Her eyes closed as she emphasized that word, “Really like how you made me feel last night.”  
He growled, pulling her close and kissed her hard, lifting her so her legs easily went around his hips he pressed her gently against the soft bark of the birch tree, nipping at her neck, suckling it he let her feel the press of his dick where she craved it, moaning as she ground down on him. “Vixen.” He purred, brushing his lips over hers, “Oh how I want to fuck you.” He groaned, leaning his forehead on hers, “You’ll be so tight, so perfect.” He mused  
“Then fuck me.” She whispered, her eyes closing as his beard tickled her neck as he kissed her there.   
“No.” he sighed, his hand cupping her face, “I don’t think I can risk it.”  
Caoilinn groaned impatiently, “Why!” She half exclaimed, half whined, “I am not mad of glass.”  
“No. But your mother wants you pure for a reason, and I best find out why first.” He caressed her face.  
Caoilinn snorted, “I dinna think I’m verra pure now.” Her brogue thick, she quirked a brow, “What’s the difference between your fingers on my bits and your dick in my cunt?” Her legs tightened around him and she hooked her arms tighter against his shoulders.

Sweeney sighed, “To the old ways, a lot of difference.” He let her down, caressing her waist and cupped her breasts, massaging them lightly, smirking at the way she moaned and bit her lip just so. “But I reckon my tongue doesn’t count as much as my prick.” He murmured, kissing her and easing her down on the grassy floor. He muted her questions with a kiss, moving down to catch her nipples in his mouth, pulling them with his tongue, pressing her waist down gently as she bucked,   
“Oh Sweeney.” She whined, her hand tangling in his hair, “Oh my that is delightful.”   
“Just wait.” He purred, nuzzling her breasts he kissed down her body, his nose brushing her belly button as he inhaled the sweet scent of her cunt. “How do you manage to smell like that.” He growled, breathing in the sweet spring like scent, like flowers and clover and all things heavenly. His fingers gently parted the soft skin of her cunt, his thumb tracing over her clit and pink lips, her hand still in his hair, caressing him as he took her in her mouth. 

“Oh. Oh MY!” She exclaimed bucking, “Oh... oh what… “She panted as he began suckling her, flicking his tongue in great circles around her clit, sucking it deep before running his tongue down the rest of her and teasing her tight opening, which now was dripping with anticipation and desire. Caoilinn panted his name in a chant, her fingers yanking his hair as he pleasured her. His hands caressed her ass and hips and his dick ached with need to be *inside* of her, giving in just a little he shifted, taking his long middle finger and slowly pushing it inside of her. He moaned deeply, the sound vibrating against her clit, making her writhe. She was so… so tight and so very wet. Her channel closed around his finger tightly, greedily, pulling him deeper. Sweeney gave her what she wanted, pumping the finger deep inside as he continued his ministrations to her clit.  
Caoilinn was dizzy with the feelings Sweeney was pulling from her, she had *never* felt either the sensation of a mouth on her cunt, nor the feeling of anything inside of her and it drove her crazy with pleasure. She clenched tight around his finger and arched, “Oh gods.” She pulled his hair, her toes curling, she screamed with her orgasm, his name echoing in the forest. She didn’t care if water carried, or if the crows would tell on her, she fucking loved what he did to her and she would keep him as a lover no matter what. She wanted him as her own. 

Sweeney kissed back up her body, cradling her close, his prick throbbing against her, precum dripping from the head as if the member was crying with need. He nuzzled her, panting against the desire to just thrust inside of her and claim her. He gasped as he felt her tiny hand circle around him.   
“I don’t know how to.” She whispered, her voice husky with spent orgasm, her cheeks flushed. “But I want to make you feel wonderful too.”   
His caramel eyes met hers and he studied her as he met her hand with his and guided her in stroking him, up, down, slowly and steadily. “Not to hard, but not to soft either.” He said quietly.   
“I mean... with my mouth... like you did.” Her eyes met his with dark lust  
Sweeney swore softly and shifted to sit against the tree, watching her as she came closer, curling up between his legs, her hand stroking his shaft and balls. “I dunno if I can fit.” He said, watching her mouth drowsily.   
“Fit? Don’t I just...” She bent down and licked the head, making him jerk, his hand gripping her shoulder involuntarily,   
“Oh sweet... yes.” He moaned, his head leaning back, “Good girl. Put your lips about me and suck gently.” He instructed, sighing as he felt her warm mouth encircle him, sucking him back, her lips around her teeth she sucked as if she was milking him. “Not a cow’s teat, love.” He chuckled, pulling her hand up he took a finger in his mouth, meeting her eyes and demonstrated. 

Caoilinn blushed, smiling and bent to try again, doing just as he’d shown her, bobbing gently up and down, she paused as if thinking and opened her mouth wider, the tongue caressing the underside of his prick and she swallowed him.   
Sweeney about came. His fingers tangled in her hair as she tested the restraints of her gag reflex, when she had him almost to the root she pulled back and observed the pulsing dick, it’s veins throbbing with impending ejaculation, the head moist with her spit and his precum. She flicked her tongue over the head and the little piece of skin at the bottom of the opening and grinned as Sweeney cried out, she felt hot sticky juices spray her on her nose and lips, coming in jets, his balls tightening under her gentle hand.   
“Oh love.” He purred, “Caoilinn, I’m sorry.” He said, opening his eyes and seeing his seed all over her mouth and chin, “I didn’t intend for that to happen all over your face.” He reached for his loin cloth that had been long discarded and wiped her face for her, his thumb caressing her lower lip.   
“I didn’t mind.” She smiled, she kissed him on impulse, throwing her arms around him. She felt him hesitate before he wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling her.  
“You should go home before little birds tell bigger birds.” He kissed her temple, his heart stirring about the warm girl he held.   
Caoilinn sighed, “Will I see you again?” Her blue eyes searched his face.   
Sweeney caressed her face, “You want to dontcha.”  
She nodded. “I still want your cock inside of me.” She whispered.   
“You know how to find me.” He kissed her forehead. 

 

“So, you are sure that you saw them.” The Morrigan looked out the window, her arms crossed, trying to contain her emotions in the presence of her messenger.  
“I am sure what my contacts told me yes,” The smaller woman said, “They saw them by the spring, naked.”  
“And?” She turned dark eyes towards her messenger, not caring when the other woman shrank back.  
“And...” She was trying to find the courage, “He… was soiling her.”  
Morrigan’s nostrils flared, “Fucking her?”, she turned her whole body towards the woman.  
“No! No no, not at all, Mistress.”   
“I want to know what was happening to my purest child.” She purred, a crow flying in and landing on her shoulder, squawking.  
“They enjoyed… the pleasures of the flesh…. with... with their mouths.” The messenger looked away, embarrassed.  
Morrigan quirked a brow, “So he’s not entirely stupid, just careless.” She tilted her head, thinking quickly. At some point she would have to find a mate for her daughter, someone that she felt was safe to provide children and continue her line. A Mad King wasn’t her first, second, third or even hundredth choice. “Was Caoilinn happy?” She asked.  
“She appeared to be enjoying it and even instigated it.”  
Morrigan smiled despite herself, chuckling slightly, “It does not seem there would be anything I could to then.”  
“Mistress?” her confused messenger quired.   
Morrigan sighed, “I have vowed never to trample the happiness of any of my children, if my daughter wishes to take the Mad one as her lover, there is little I can do to stop her…” her eyes were a bit pained, “Even if it harms her. She is special. She has powers she doesn’t know of yet.” Morrigan caressed a bag that hung at her waist, a gold coin nestled in the very bottom of it among sundry items.   
“Do you wish us to continue our surveillance on your daughter?” her messenger asked.   
Morrigan breathed deeply then nodded, “Yes. Yes, I do. I need to know when she is no longer a virgin in the old rites.” She looked back out the window. “it is spring. Her body is ripe. He will want to pluck her fruit soon. He will not be able to resist. Not because he is a man, not because he is mad, but because she is who she is.”


	3. Dark Words and Dark feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had almost decided not to finish this, especially since after episode 7 of season 2 most of the Lore I had already written was weak and not complete, but then I decided.. heck with it. I've incorporated the rest of the lore into this chapter, Sweeney as Lugh  
> This is a bit of a "filler" chapter with the next one getting back to the smutty goodness.

Weeks went by and Caoilinn didn’t see the fiery haired mad man. She began wondering if maybe he got what he wanted and found someone different, more experienced. Or maybe Mother had gotten to him and scared him off. Both thoughts depressed her, and she felt an incredible longing for him. He was like sunshine, pure sun, and he warmed her body as fair as a summer’s midday. It didn’t make sense for him to have gotten all he wanted for he’d never fucked her, but men were an odd lot. These thoughts distracted her into almost a trance as she strolled and suddenly realized she had ended up at her Mother’s abode.   
She looked up, startled, at the two guards at the doorway who smiled at her and opened the door silently for her to enter. “Thank you.” She said quietly, wandering into her mother’s foyer. Melancholic, she went to set on one of the lounges under the larger windows and let the breeze float over her face, her arm under her head as she lay back with a sigh. 

“Such sadness from you.” Morrigan’s voice reached her from the doorway. “If you were not my daughter, I would enjoy the scent of it.” She might as well have said it smelled of death, dying and torture. 

“I am just pondering the heart.” Caoilinn responded, still gazing out on the trees and sky. 

The lounge dipped a bit as her mother sat by her feet, laying a cool hand on her feet, “Has someone broken your heart?” Her voice was caring, but there was metal and threats underneath her words. 

“No.” Caoilinn shook her head, brow furrowed, meeting her mother’s eyes. “May I ask you some things? I do not want to be told what to do, I just want to understand men a little better.”

Morrigan smirked, “Oh my love, we may be here until the end of days.” She smiled when Caoilinn returned her smirk.  
“Did… did you and my father love each other?”

Morrigan drew a breath, her head tilted back, “He and I had a pact. He swore his fealty to me and offered his body, blood and lineage as sacrifice for me saving his life on the battle field.” She played with the hem of Caoilinn’s dress, straightening it over her ankles. “So, in a way there was love. For a subject to his queen, but he returned to his homeland and his own gods. I have had many lovers in my life, Caoilinn, and I have had many husbands, and I have loved them all in different ways, and many have loved me in different ways.” She watched her.

Caoilinn nodded, mostly satisfied with her mother’s answer, as usual fairly cryptic. “If… “ She bit her lip, “If a man had yet to … complete the act of mating with you, would he just… disappear? Wouldn’t he want to keep coming back until he got it?”  
Morrigan quirked an eyebrow, so this was about Shuibhne. She waited until her tone could be pleasant and loving, “It depends on the man and why he has yet to complete the mating. Has there been such a man?” She watched her. 

Caoilinn looked at her from the side of her face, “Yes.” She sat, tucking her legs under her, “I figured by now you would have known… I have seen your crows and wolves following me more lately. I understand why you would not tell me you’re watching, you always are.” 

Morrigan nodded, “I do not know the first time, for your spell was well worked. It was after that I began to have you followed… I was curious if you had let him take you.”  
“He won’t!” She sighed in frustration. “As much as I begged him to, he wouldn’t! And it was just twice, I haven’t seen him again since my bath in the spring. That has been over a fortnight ago.” She whined in frustration. “He is like the sun…”

“He is the sun.” Morrigan interrupted, her gaze capturing her daughters in a way it was impossible to look away from. 

“What?” Caoilinn was confused. 

“Long before he was who he is now, long before he was king… his madness as grown and made him forget and it is part of the reason I am hesitant to let this go forward. Mostly I am not as pleased because you do not know what all your power is yet, partly I wished you to find a human mate and continue our line, and the other part is because of who Shuibhne is and was in his soul.”

Caoilinn couldn’t break away from the dark pools of her mother’s eyes, “The sun.” She murmured, “You don’t want me to give my innocence to someone like you, like Brighid, like Daghda, like any of the other gods… because he’s not just part of the Aos Si.” Anger bubbled up in her heart and she looked away from her mother’s trapping gaze. She stood. “That is not fair, Mother.” Her arms crossed over her chest, “It’s not fair that you have so much say in who I give my innocence to and who I take as a lover, I am discovering my power and I don’t understand why you stifle me.” Her eyes sparked fire. 

Morrigan stood gracefully, “Not stifling, child, or I would have separated the two of you after I saw your little spell against me.” She stood in front of her daughter, “If the two of you mix, there are consequences because of who you are… and who he is.”

Caoilinn lifted her chin, “And what are those consequences.”

Her expression was serious, “Many, and variable. Even I cannot predict safely the future if you and the mad King consummate fully, especially if you create another life, but what I can see, is that the consequences will effect every woman he cares about until he meets his end west of the sunrise.”

Caoilinn sighed, shrugging, “It does not matter anyway, he left. I haven’t seen him, he obviously does not care.” She looked away.

“He is close.” Morrigan said. “I will never tell you what to do, who to be with, but I will warn you. There is no good end to mating with him. I see no good end, and I do not want to be the one that gathers my own daughter’s soul.” 

Chill spread through Caoilinn’s body at that and she breathed a bit heavier, “You think that he would hurt me?”

Morrigan shook her head, “He will not harm you no, but there is something that even I cannot see, and that gives me great pause.”

Caoilinn sighed, “But I’m drawn to him, like a moth to a flame and I do not think that I care what the results are. I would venture to wonder if I might love him.” She said the last very softly, “I dream of him, of being held and holding and smiling together and his tender touches, the thought of him makes my heart flutter. I want him. More than life.” She nodded. 

“Then so it is.” Morrigan said, touching her daughter’s shoulder lovingly and walking back into the shadows of the house.


End file.
